


Crazy Little Thing Called...

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Coulson eating junk food, Coulson eating junk food with Skye, Coulson has Skyefeels, Coulson is a dork around Skye, Coulson loves Skye, Danger, F/M, Fear, Humor, Kissing, Loss, Missions, Resolved Sexual Tension, Skye trying to figure Coulson out, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Undercover, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4262577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Phil and Skye get closer working on their secret operation, and he can't help but leak more details about his personal life to Skye, until he tells her everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crazy Little Thing Called...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



“This reminds me a little of the time I was locked in the closet with Jenny Hargraves.”

“Wha-?”

They’re both standing in the dark, distracted by the noise of the HYDRA guys tramping down the corridor, hoping to meet up with them.

“Um,” he starts, awkward, as she feels him breathing against her neck.

In fact, all of him is sort of breathing against her at the moment.  There’s not much room in this maintenance closet, and if she wasn’t concerned about getting them both out of here bullet-free, she might even be distracted.

She presses her ear up to the door, loosening the grip on her ICER for a moment. “I think they’ve moved on.”

“Give it a minute,” he said, checking his breathing, trying to slow himself down.  “Just to be safe.”

He steps back from her for a moment, as she pulls her hand from his flack vest, and hears him hiss under his breath, fighting a curse word forming on his lips.

He bangs against something on the ground.

Always so professional, that Coulson.

The sound’s not _too_ loud. Probably not enough to attract someone from the outside corridor.

“Jenny Hargraves?” she asks, the smile on her face evident in her voice, now that they have some breathing room.

“Sixth grade, I think?” he says, like he’s trying to place it, distracted.  Or he stepped in something.  She really can't say, only she can hear him breathing more quietly now, through his nose. 

That's probably all she's going to get for the moment.

It kind of disappoints her that she can't see his face.

Turning the lock and cracking the door, she tightens her hand on the grip of her gun.

“Ready?” she asks.

“Copy that.”

 

#

 

They’ve been sitting in the SUV all night, watching the house several doors down on the wide street in this old neighborhood.

It’s late, and she’s fighting the urge to prop her legs up against the dash like she used to in her van when she got restless.

He’s sitting there next to her, staring out along the street, face pensive.

Maybe he’s just trying to keep himself in check. 

Lately, he’s just been more…unsure? 

That’s probably not fair.

He’s had to adjust to her way of running operations. They are partners in this, after all.

They’re checking in on a gifted, someone they’ve linked through online traces to a possible pattern of petty crimes in the neighborhood in the last six months.

Right around when the Terrigen crystals were unknowingly distributed in gel tablet form worldwide.

It’s her fifth or sixth mission on the CATERPILLARS op.  It’s his third.

This one seems like it could be easier, but, that’s the part that’s always deceptive.

“You’re worried this is going to be harder than it looks,” she offers.

He blinks, then turns slowly towards her, shifting the blue file on this lap. “This kid’s life wasn’t normal even six months ago. Now, it’s a hurricane.”

Divorced parents. Trespassing. Vandalism.  High risk neighborhood.

“What would you have done at this age?” she asks. “If you were in his shoes?”

Coulson doesn’t answer right away.  This is because things are too calm at the moment, she thinks.  He’s spent a lot of time in his head about it.

When he doesn’t have that time, when he’s pushed with nerves or adrenaline, there are Twizzlers and hints about Seven Minutes in Heaven with Jenny.  Or, “The last time I danced all night like that, I think Smith played CBGBs”. (That was when they were undercover in New Orleans a month ago.)

They _did_ have to dance all night. Which was kind of fun, actually, despite the fact that the dancing was a side-effect of a musically-inclined gifted.

He'd thrown that one out as they walked down the street at 5 am, all sweaty and gross and sharing a pile of gravy-smothered fries.

“He’s twelve, right?” Coulson asked. There was an inexplicable smile on his face, for just a moment. 

Then it was gone.

“Sneaking out?” she asked, trying to read his expression.

“He’s probably into _something_ ,” Coulson replied. “Someone he likes, or, trying to fit in somewhere.  I started wanting a tattoo around then.”

He adds that last part after a beat, and Skye raises her eyebrows to her forehead.

She would _not_ picture Coulson for that kind of guy.

He must agree with her, because he leaves it at that.

#

This is more like a nightmare she had once.

Stripped down, tied to a chair at her back and at her legs.

Except, Coulson is also stripped down and tied to the chair tied behind hers.

At least she's not alone?

"Can you use your...you know...," he whispers, hinting. 

She can feel his nerves, even though she can't see him.  All it takes is just a little focus on her part.

See, the deal is, she's been reluctant to _really_ use her powers. Ever since what happened between her and her mother.  

 _And_ that she tried to do the right thing, and now there were a lot of people who didn't have powers before _with_ powers.

Like this woman they're dealing with here, for instance.

Skye's not sure if she actually _is_ in her underwear, or if this lady's just making her think she is.

It's hard to say, but this _person_ is obviously up for humiliating them.

She really doesn't appreciate it. Or want to see how far she'll take that.

Coulson gets very quiet for a moment, but it's only for a moment.

"This has never happened to me before," he blurts out, like it's a revelation.

"Congratulations," Skye answers, looking at the door the woman walked out of earlier.

He's always been so unflappable. What gives?

"We don't even know if we're really naked," she says over her shoulder.

"I'm not naked," he hisses. "I'm wearing my boxers."

"It could just be an illusion," she answers back quiet-loud.

"That's what I'm hoping for, too," he says, tipping his head back until it makes contact with hers. "Sorry."

"I'm going to try for it," she said, eyeing the door. "It'll probably draw her attention."

"You get us loose, I'll take care of her," he answered. "I got a good look at the room before this started."

She imagines he's planning on more or less hitting her on the head with a heavy object at this point.

Sounds like a good plan.

The chairs beneath them start to tremble and then the wood comes apart at the joints and some of it splinters as they both hit the ground.

He turns his back towards her quickly and holds his ropes out to her, pressing his hands towards her fingers until they feel rope.

She watches the door and feels the rope's weave comes apart under her touch.

Turning to face her, he checks the door while he very efficiently pulls the knot loose at her wrists behind her.

The woman comes through it, then, with a panicked expression, and this is exactly what they don't need.

Skye raises a hand at her, sending her flying against the hall wall behind her.

As she collapses to the ground in a slump, Skye thinks how she just looks so normal.

She glances over at Coulson and sees him crouched next to her in his suit.

"Told ya," she smiles.

He straightens his tie.

 

#

 

“Do I make you nervous?” she asked, giving him a sideways glance.

He stared back at her in silence, then suddenly jumped in. “Why would you ask that-“

“I just thought, since we’ve been working-“ she interrupted.

“ _Yes_.”

Standing across from her in the kitchen, he shrugged at her.

Coming across him at midnight sneaking a snack in the Playground wasn't what she had planned, but, since they were both awake...

“We’re partners, right?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Correct," he replied. "Although, this is your op, Skye. You know that, so-"

"I know," she answered. "And, we work really well together.”

He stared nervously down at his feet and put the doughnut in his hand back into the box.

"So, if I'm doing anything that you'd like me to do differently," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Then you should tell me."

Eyes meeting hers again, she thought about the fact that she'd been alone for the last several missions, SHIELD and secret op, and the truth was she missed him.

She just didn't think she could say it like that.

It would get weird, because no one was about to die or have something tragic happen right this second.

Maybe another approach.

“Do you actually have a tattoo?" she asked, tilting her head at him.

A confused look passed over his face for a moment, like he was trying to reroute his thought patterns to include this bit of information.

"What?" he asked, wrapping his hands around his arms, like he was trying to make himself seem smaller, leaning against the counter slightly.

"I don't think you do," she said, pursing her lips at him.  A challenge.

"That's private," he said, raising his eyebrows coyly, picking the doughnut back out of the box, and walking past her with a long stare as he took a bite.

"Then why did you bring it up?" she asked, with a frustrated laugh, turning to watch him walk out of the room.

He looked back at her chewing, and sighed.

"Because you make me nervous."

She gave him a curious smile as he left.

 

#

 

There were a lot of reasons she was doing this, okay?

One was because it had to be done, now that the Inhumans didn't have a leader, and Raina had that vision or whatever (as much as she wished it was a joke, she knew it wasn't), and she couldn't let rogue Inhumans and HYDRA run around recruiting powered people for their evil games of global domination.

Coulson understood that, better than anyone.  It's why he couldn't just look the other way while this other version of SHIELD had tried to rebuild the Index.

It's totally why they agreed on most things most days.

Today was not one of those days.  

It was her birthday, and instead of making her feel excited, it reminded her of what she'd lost. In order to do the right thing, of course.

And that counted.  It did.  But.

 _Still_.

He had tried to cheer her up when she walked into his office, like he'd been thinking on it, and she'd politely declined his suggestions.  

Skye and Daisy had two different birthdays, and although she'd updated her SHIELD file with all the relevant info, she was still feeling _things_ about all of this.

And it wasn't common knowledge yet, and at least he'd kept that to himself, and it wasn't hard to avoid people for most of the day.

Towards the end of it, she was still feeling restless. Like it was hovering over her.

She just wanted to get out of here.

Walking herself up the stairs to his office, she walked into the open door as he looked up at her from his file.

Sleeves rolled up his arms, his artificial limb on his left arm indistinguishable from his real one.  Kind of a miracle, that thing.

That Coulson was still here.

"Skye," he said, sitting up straight behind the desk.

"I was thinking," she said, looking around the room. "If I took Lola out for a drive?"

He knew it was a request, not a question.  "Of course," he said, standing, and fishing in his pocket to hand the keys over to her.

The way he gave them up so readily to her made her smile, and in turn, he smiled back at her in his familiar way.

Skye. Daisy. He didn't see her as two different people.

"Would you like to come with me?" she asked, knowing that he probably had a ready excuse available.

"Okay."

He said it quietly, and stood up from the chair, reaching for his jacket. "Are we going far?"

"No."

Leaving it there, he came around the desk and gestured towards the door as they both walked quietly down the stairs and through the hall to the hangar.

It was late, so, skeleton crew, and Lola was sitting there parked a distance from the other vehicles.

She looked at him just to double check and he raised his eyebrows at her and silently got into the passenger side, shutting the door behind him.

Skye started Lola up, hearing the pleasant engine hum and pulled out into the night air.

They sat in silence as she raced down the highway, until there was nothing but darkness and stars around them.

"Did you ever feel like you got  _so_ close to something, and then-"

His hand reached out and touched her shoulder and then she was fighting off tears, pulling Lola onto a side road and stopping the car. With a click of his seatbelt, she's pulled into his arms and he's hugging her.

"Like it was never really _real_ -"

"It was," he said, smoothing his hand over her hair. "They always wanted you, Skye."

"I know I did the right thing," she said, looking up at him, trying to find his face as her blurred eyes adjusted to the dark.

He nodded at her, as she pressed her face back against his shoulder.

"I-I told myself there were certain things I could never have when I joined SHIELD."

She nods into him, understanding this now. _Truly_. It seems kind of pathetic.

"This feels, a lot, like what I told myself I could never have."

Suddenly, she goes still in his arms, as she reads him reacting.  

It's as direct, maybe, as he's ever been.  As close to defining this-whatever it is-between them.

Just two weeks ago, he told her she made him nervous.

She pulls back. "This is why you said-"

"Yes," he says, his voice carrying nerves in it.

It's a lot to hear today. Or, any other day, really.

A tiny voice inside of her, that sounds a whole lot like Mary Sue Poots, tells her what will happen if she does this.

That it's going to go away.

But, screw it. _It's her birthday._

Pulling on his shirt collar, he follows, watching her press their mouths together, then he closes his eyes and kisses her back softly, careful, like he always is when he touches her.  It's really sweet.

She also knows better.

When her hand slides against the back of his neck and she deepens the kiss, hard and fast, then pulls back, he takes the hint.

His hands crawl over the console between them as he raises his body up to meet hers, her knees resting on the seat as she gathers him into her arms.

" _Skye_ ."

He's staring up at her. The same way he always has.

Only now, she knows what it means.


End file.
